Chapter 4 Kaia
Kaia
Dawn has barely broken over the horizon when I find myself standing on the counter in the kitchen, stretching up on my toes to reach the top shelf where the head cook Alpha, Clarissa, keeps the little raspberry desserts that Solace loves so much.
The kitchen is supposed to be empty at this hour, the staff not due to arrive for at least another twenty minutes to begin preparations for the morning meal.
I figured I would have plenty of time to gather what I needed and slip back out unnoticed.
I should have known better.
"What are you doing?"
The voice startles me so badly that I spin around, my bare feet slipping on the smooth counter surface.
My heart lurches into my throat as I feel myself falling backward, arms pinwheeling uselessly.
Before I can hit the ground, strong hands catch me around the waist, steadying me as I gasp for breath and try to calm my racing pulse.
One of the kitchen staff, a young woman named Maren who has worked here since I was a child, holds me steady with a concerned expression.
I offer her a sheepish smile as I stuff the raspberry desserts into the small bag hanging at my hip, then allow her to help me climb down from the counter with as much dignity as I can muster.
Which is not much, given that I have just been caught stealing food from the royal kitchens like a common thief.
Another maid standing near the preparation table, looks positively mortified at being caught, Victoria holding several different kinds of breads and cheeses, all wrapped carefully in cloth.
I told her to grab anything that would stay fresh for at least three days, anything that was easily accessible without being the last item in storage.
The sound of footsteps makes us all freeze, the door to the kitchen swinging open, Clarissa sweeping in with the commanding presence of someone who has ruled this domain for decades.
She takes one look at the scene before her, and then her expression shifts from surprise to exasperation in the span of a heartbeat.
She moves quickly to close the door behind her, glancing out into the corridor before shutting it firmly. "Princess, what are you doing? Anyone could have seen you!"
I resist the urge to point out that several people have, in fact, already seen me.
Instead, I straighten my spine and try to project an air of authority that is somewhat undermined by the fact that I am barefoot and dressed in traveling clothes rather than royal finery.
"I needed to pack. We are heading to the edge of Valoria to see off the warriors. "
Clarissa’s eyes narrow. She crosses her arms over her chest, and I feel suddenly like I am ten years old again, caught sneaking sweetcakes before dinner.
"Sweetheart, you have never once feigned interest in that particular duty.
Why now? And why do you need all this food?
It is half a day's trip at most, maybe less with good horses. "
I manage what I hope is a convincing smile, though from the way her expression does not change, I suspect I am not fooling her in the slightest. Clarissa has known me since I was born.
She was my mother's most trusted confidant in matters of the household, and after my mother's death, she became something of a second mother to me.
She has caught Solace and me in more than one compromising position over the past year, though she has never pushed for explanations or threatened to reveal our relationship to anyone.
Her discretion has been a gift I can never fully repay.
She sighs, the sound heavy with resignation and concern. "Please, at least tell me that you are taking your guard with you."
I nod quickly, relieved to be able to answer one question honestly. "Of course. Solace will be with me."
The head cook studies me for a long moment before holding out her hand expectantly. "How much time do I have?"
"Maybe twenty minutes?" I offer, wincing at how uncertain it sounds.
"Give me all the things you stole from my kitchen and let me pack them properly."
I laugh despite myself, relief and affection flooding my chest. I hand over my bag with the raspberry desserts, and the maid hurries forward to give her the bread and cheese as well. The Alpha takes them all and moves to the preparation table, already assessing what’s there.
"I am going to add a few other things you might need along your journey as well," she says without looking up, already repacking everything into a more suitable traveling bag.
My stomach drops. "What do you mean?"
Now she does look up, a mixture of sadness and understanding in her expression.
"You forget that I know you, Princess. You are smart and cunning, but you are also just like your mother.
This much food will last you at least three days, maybe four if you ration between three or four people.
Which means you do not plan on stopping at the edge to see the warriors off, do you? You plan on joining them."
For a moment, I consider lying. But what would be the point? She has already seen through me, and I owe her more than deception. "You cannot say anything. Not until I am well on my way. I am done waiting for everyone else to be my savior."
The Alpha’s hands still for a moment. When she speaks again, her voice is much quieter and laced with worry. "And what happens when you get hurt or worse, when you die out there? Your kingdom needs you, Princess."
The words sting, even though I know she means them with love. "This is not my kingdom. It is my father's. It has grown into something I do not recognize anymore."
"Princess—"
"Solace said that too, you know." I move closer to the table, watching her work.
"She said I should be respectful of my duties to my kingdom.
But why should I when they do not even respect me?
I am just supposed to mate with whoever comes back with a dragon's head?
Sure, they will have a fighter's spirit or beginner's luck, but what gives them the right to rule Valoria?
What have they done to earn it besides survive a journey that has killed dozens of others?
How does that qualify them to make decisions that will affect thousands of lives? "
Clarissa lets out a frustrated sigh, continuing to work as she adds dried fruits, strips of preserved meat, a small pouch of herbs that can be used for cooking or medicine, and a tin of the honey cakes I loved as a child.
She works in silence for several minutes, before finally, tying the bag closed and handing it to me.
Our eyes meet, tears glistening in hers.
"Princess, I do not have any answers for you.
I wish I did. I very well might not be here when you get back if your father asks who helped aid your way.
But I admire your tenacity, your refusal to simply accept the fate others have decided for you.
Please be safe out there. Promise me that you will turn back if it becomes too much.
I know you are strong, but even you must concede sometimes.
Even the bravest warriors know when to retreat and fight another day. "
I take the bag and pull her into a tight embrace, something that would scandalize the other nobles if they saw a princess hugging the staff so familiarly.
But she is not just staff. She is family in all the ways that matter.
"I promise. I will be careful, and I will come back.
I have to. Someone needs to fix what my father has broken. "
She pulls back and cups my face in her work-worn hands. "Your mother would be so proud of you. And so terrified. Just as I am."
I squeeze her hands once more, then tighten my grip on the bag and hurry toward the door. I pause at the threshold and look back at her. "Thank you. For everything. For always seeing me, not just the princess everyone expects me to be."
"Go," she says, waving me away even as she wipes at her eyes. "Before someone else discovers what you are up to and tries to stop you. I will make sure the other staff keep quiet until you are gone."
I slip out into the corridor and make my way through the castle with practiced stealth, only stopping by my room to gather the second bag I have prepared.
I have spent years sneaking through these halls, learning which floorboards creak and which staff are likely to be where at what times.
It serves me well now as I navigate my way to the main courtyard where the procession will be departing.
The sky is lightening to a soft gray, the sun not yet visible over the eastern walls but painting the clouds with hints of pink and gold.
The courtyard is already bustling with activity.
Horses stamp around as their warriors clad in armor check their weapons, their faces set with determination or fear or some combination of both.
Staff rushes about with last-minute supplies, nobles gathering in small clusters to see off the latest group of would-be heroes.
It's chaos as always, my carriage sitting a few steps from the entrance.
It is impossible to miss, painted in the deep green and gold of the royal house, polished to a shine that nearly acts as a mirror.
My two horses stand in their harnesses, a matched pair of chestnuts that I have ridden since they were foals.
They know me, recognize my scent, one of them tossing her head and neighing softly as I approach.
This plan is reckless, stupid even, but it’s my only chance.